A Tiresome Proposal
by plug in delaney
Summary: Chapter 3 and 4 are up! Draco needs a new way to stabilize his schedule and himself after he takes control and messes it up. Who will help? It should be pretty obvious, wouldn't be a Ron and Draco slash without both of them involved...
1. Narcolepsy…or some form of the like

A Tiresome Proposal

Chapter 1: Narcolepsy…or some form of the like

The blood soaked into his finger, releasing a shock filled tremble through his arm, extending to his chest and lungs. He was concentrating on it and was now swirling a few drops between his two fingers. The viscous sugary stick barely fused his fingers through a thin bridge of red.

Sliding his thumb down the other finger, the barely opaque fluid coated his skin for a frail line. Running his thumb back up the finger, he quickly shook from his concentrative trance and wiped the fingers on his robe. The thorn from the sage plant would leave a small red mark on the tip of his thumb.

He softly rubbed his thumb against his lip and his tongue silently darted out to cleanse the still bleeding wound. Pansy looked sideways at her partner with concern, "Drac…you alright?"

The boy slightly nodded with a stern look in his eyes, as to cover up any worry within himself. "Just need a band-aid," he mumbled, rising from his seat. Removing his thumb with a small pop he caught sight of it once again.

A little jagged 'z' shape formed and he flexed his thumb back and forth to test the bond his saliva made to its edges. Not paying attention as he walked, he bumped face first into a redhead who was turning around in the aisle. His forehead all but properly smacked into Ron's and he moaned slightly at the rough contact.

"Watch where you're going, Ferret," Ron spat out. The other didn't bother to respond or pull a face back. His eyes lowered and he continued on his way to the front. Ron, however, scowled at the blonde's back as he rubbed his forehead. He heaved a sigh and followed him up the aisle.

The two parted in the open area past the tables, Ron going to the supply area and Draco to Snape's desk. Ron looked back to the Slytherin as he asked the professor for a band-aid, only to have him glare strangely and remind him that a simple healing charm would work better. Draco nodded understandingly and headed back to his seat without a glance back.

Ron followed him once again as he had his sage. When Ron reached Harry he expressed a look of pure confusion. "Malfoy seems like a zombie today," he offered to the brunette who was obviously more concerned with the potion at hand.

Not looking up, Harry responded, "He's been like that for a good two weeks now. Apparently you haven't noticed…"

Ron looked back at the slouching figure, stone gray eyes fixating on a spot on the desk and slightly twirling around another root between his fingers. "Well between all the Quidditch practice, the transfiguration research parchment, and Hermoine yelling at me daily over the prank on her cat _and_ homework…I don't have time to analyze our nemesis' feelings," he retorted, still glaring at said arch-rival.

"Apologies for my failure to recognize your dilemmas but he's really been off lately and near everyone has noticed," the brunette said.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, I've just been stressed lately. What's wrong with him?" he inquired now concerned.

Taking a glance back at the blonde still twirling the root and staring blankly, Harry shook his head, "Not sure. I overheard Pansy talking to Crabbe or Goyle and saying it was pretty serious and something about Voldemort…"

"Ah, so that's why you're interested," Ron smiled.

Harry shrugged, "Well yeah, since all Voldemort's interested in is me…but whichever, Crabbe or Goyle, the one Pansy wasn't talking to shoved me aside and made some lame insult."

"Why do Slytherins bother anymore?" Ron sighed exasperatingly.

Harry shrugged again and focused his attention back on the potion. "Malfoy doesn't, and that's why I'm glad he's down. Except he isn't trying in Quidditch anymore and he was my only competition," he noted.

"Now who's being selfish?" Ron laughed at Harry's pout.

"Guess I'll have to lower my standards when I play…ride my broomstick backwards or something," the brunette commented.

Ron tried to suppress a laugh. "Yeah, maybe Ravenclaw would have a chance then," he added. The thought of Ravenclaw defeating Gryffindor arose amusement in both of them that neither could control. Small hiccups of audible laughter escaped even though it was doing its best to be muffled as the two had their arms around their heads on their desks. Their position near the front in neither the class, nor the stone walled dungeon classroom, helped to stifle them.

Snape's eyes lifted from his book and with a stern voice warned, "Potter and Weasley…if you'll be so kind…" The two lifted their heads and inhaled sharply, ceasing their merriment.

The Gryffindors went back to their potion as snickering now filled the dungeons. The typical belittling came from the four Slytherins behind them but today the taunting was only recognized as Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Ron stole a glimpse behind his shoulder to see that the owner of the absent vocal still hadn't moved. Draco didn't seem to notice the previous laughter or the present taunting and was on the brink of either falling asleep or passing out, the redhead deduced.

After no discipline, the Slytherins eventually got back to work except Draco who fell asleep with a soft, dull thump as his head hit his book.

* * *

"He's as lifeless as those mudbloods were when they were petrified by the basilisk," Pansy whispered to Goyle, who nodded and then smirked and whispered to Crabbe conspiratorially. Crabbe elbowed the blonde and pointed to Goyle who tripped Ron as they walked into the Great Hall. 

Divination and History of Magic showed no improvement in Draco (well History of Magic doesn't actually count because everyone is asleep in that class) and not even a hilarious spill from one of his enemies caused a reaction. Ron stumbled up and practically growled at the group, making the others laugh twice as loud, but Draco just continued onto the table.

Meals were the only time the Slytherin was somewhat sociable. His housemates knew more than not to pry and inquire about his otherwise antisocial tendencies.

The blonde made the best out of the time of his lunch with the twittering classmates raving on about the latest Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Snorting appropriately, his friends seemed to reward his actions enthusiastically every time with a compliment of some form about him.

Especially his hair; it had grown rather long, too long for his tastes but he was too apathetic to cut it. His silver-blonde fringe almost covered his eyes, constantly making him blow them away or shake his head. Although, this shield was appreciated by him and was his least hated part.

The rest was in a near shag; he always had to tame his hair with a spell each morning. Blaise, no matter how much he would try to ruffle and mess it up, could not succeed until it wore off fourteen hours later. Said antagonist announced he was taking Draco tonight to an undisclosed location, and if, in his excitement, he had not kicked the blonde under the table, Draco would not have received this information.

A small shrug of acquiesce and a nod was exhibited and immediately Pansy's hand cupped to Blaise's ear to tell him to give her the full details right when they were done. If there were one person the table thought would get Draco to open up, it would be Blaise. The brunette was the only one to actually care and Draco recognized this.

It's not like he didn't want to talk to others, it's just the type he is accustomed to tend to be cheating, backstabbing bastards who complied with the Dark Lord's every whim. Their complementary house, however, could always depend on one another and hope for the best when one was distressed. The exception being Hermoine, she was left on her own because she was never relaxed.

"Bloody coursework…why do all the teachers assign projects on the same week? Isn't there some rule where that is not allowed?" she whined, wrapping her finger around a curl nervously.

"Yes 'Moine, but that only counts per grade level…you're taking not only 6th, but 7th level, and with even higher level junk…it can't be helped," Ron submitted. Hermoine threw a great sigh and shut her eyes.

"If it makes you feel any better…" Seamus threw his around the slouched girl next to him. "The Slytherins tripped Ron today and he fell flat on his face! It was brilliant!" he could barely control the laughter.

Ron scowled, "Sod off!" Hermoine lifted her head and smiled sympathetically. Ron smiled back and pointed to the small scratch on his chin as proof.

"You would of thought since Malfoy obviously isn't bothering anyone anymore that they would follow suit, like the trained monkeys they are," Hermoine spat out before pouring a drink.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Ron asked, looking over to the blonde.

Hermoine's eyes followed, "My guess is he didn't get a suitable allowance this month," she shrugged indifferently. "Atrocious prat. But his mood hasn't shifted for a good three weeks now…probably is serious."

Ron noted the difference between his two friend's attention spans to the Slytherin, Hermoine always was the more perceptive one so her account would be more accurate, he assumed. Three weeks was a long time to be down, he thought to himself, but it _was_ his rival so he figured he wasn't supposed to care.

"As long as he's leaving us alone," Ron shrugged and went back to eating. His eyes didn't shift though. Upon first glance, and second, and third, nothing appeared wrong with the Slytherin. The exhaustion did not show in any other area than the eyes, Draco's shining silver orbs were now a lifeless gray. Ron was able to make this assumption since those eyes were staring straight back at him.

A minute passed before either realized what they were doing, the gray pupils suddenly widened and then disappeared from the Gryffindor's fixed line of sight. Draco stumbled from the dazed state and shook his head, clearing away stray fringe. Ron saw the blonde suddenly rise and near dart for the door, Blaise following close behind.


	2. Advice…or some form of the like

Chapter 2: Advice...or some form of the like

"Care to commence our fun-filled evening already?" Blaise asked, near running to catch up with his friend, who was half way down the stairs to the dungeons already.

Draco, not in the mood to transform into a more contented one, slowed down to Blaise's preferred pace against his will. "What did you have in mind?" he asked nonchalant in the least.

"Well…what do you feel like doing?" he edged the blonde on with a twinge of hope. This was the most responsive he's been in a while.

"Sleep," was the blonde's response, stifling a yawn before entering the Slytherin common room. So much for reacting.

"Didn't you sleep enough during your classes today? Come on," he took Draco's arm in his and led him to his own room. "I have lots of fun stuff to cheer you up," he replied, and with that Blaise uncovered cases upon cases of butterbeer.

Draco mildly smiled at the gesture, "and how did you manage sneaking all of this in?"

Blaise smiled and shrugged, "Did a favour or two for the owner." Having no incentive to chat further, Draco picked up a bottle, only to have it taken away by Blaise. "No…have this one," he insinuated, giving him the bottle he had previously opened.

Draco shook his head and placed it down, "I might be sleepy but I'm still Draco Malfoy, you know. There is no way I will drink something spiked with Veritaserum or some other truth potion…especially if you made it, I could overdose."

"Oh…of course," Blaise cringed, handing him back the fresh bottle he desired earlier.

Draco smiled and took a swig, "I know you too well…all of you conniving Slytherins too well, you shrewd wankers."

Blaise uncomfortably smiled at the insinuation, "Well I tried. At least you're drinking nature's veritaserum."

"Oh but it would take far too many of these to get me drunk enough. Believe me," he added soberly. "Besides, even butterbeer isn't natural," he assured.

His Slytherin confidante shrugged at his mistake. "Has Draco taken to the bottle recently to drown his sorrows?" he casually asked, sinking down into his chair. From this view he could see the vague look of submission on his friend's face. His hands were placed rather firmly on the bottle in front of him, as if it was stabilizing his mentality, which was barely apparent currently.

"I don't have sorrows to drown but, just so you know, I have been drinking to curb my insomnia," Draco answered matter of factly.

Blaise prompted the blonde to sit but he waved his hand to decline. "No wonder you're so tired lately. When did the insomnia start?" he interrogated.

"It's never been absent, but since last year it really started to affect me. Just a month ago, I realized how these sweet streams of lethargy could help me sleep…" he confessed, leaning up against the wall next to the door.

"Drac, sedatives won't help your body. You need to find another way to get to sleep…or do stay up. Seriously, the alcohol is what is making you sleep in class. You didn't have a problem with that last year," Blaise persuaded.

The gaunt frame across from him shifted back to his feet. "True. If you can find a legal way to get to sleep, please feel free to enlighten me. Now, I'm sure you have enough gossip to share with the other blood-suckers and I should be getting my History of Magic homework done," he ended curtly.

"Are you sure?" Blaise replied warily. If he pushed too far, Draco would snap and he knew he was Draco's last connection and he did not want it severed.

The blonde only nodded before grabbing two more bottles and opening the door. Blaise cringed but cleared his throat, "Um, Drac?"

Draco only turned his head back, indicating his attention. "Who is going to fill in for you as seeker? Skipping out on the last two weeks practice really hasn't helped…and this weekend we're against Gryffindor…" he drew out cautiously.

"Whoever," was all the Slytherin replied before leaving to his own private room.

Blaise threw his hands up with exasperation and headed down to the common room to deliver the news.

* * *

"Someone please explain why I get stuck with the half-wits who don't know a thing about the subject at hand, girls who do nothing but play with their hair or drool over Harry while we're working, and semi-comatose enemies for projects that are worth a lot of points?" Ron rashly asked the Potions book in front of him.

Harry smiled at the insane reaction and put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "At least you're stuck with someone who knows potions. You must admit; Draco is better than any of us are."

A hefty sigh, "True," Ron admitted, "but having him barely awake during the recent classes doesn't fit with him being utterly knowledgeable on the current focus."

"Well if he stays awake long enough, he'll have the thing done in an hour and you'll get an E for sure," Harry persuaded.

Ron rolled his eyes and took a quick look back, "Doubt that would happen though. Sorry, I was so immersed in the shock factor of Snape's choice, I missed who you were with…?"

"Dean. The fight with Seamus I guess was apparent even to Snape," Harry assumed. Who couldn't have realized? Opposite sides of the room for every class, a separate end of the table at meals…neither even acknowledges each other's presence. There were bets but no one has yet to win because neither wants to divulge anything about what happened.

"And which potion did you get?" Ron asked.

"Snape finally gave us a break, veritaserum," Harry replied, very pleased with the easy potion.

The green eyes lit up, "Hey, when you test out the veritaserum on him you can ask him what happened with Seamus! I still think I'll win with my theory," he said confidently.

"Somehow I don't think Seamus declared his love for Dean and then tried to kiss him," Harry reasoned.

Ron sighed, "Oh come on. Your theory just plain sucked, you're being paranoid. Seamus _isn't_ going to join forces with you-know-who. At least you got Dean as your partner to be safe. I, on the other hand, truly got someone on the dark side…"

"Well…at least you're not stuck with Neville," the brunette silently snickered at their bright friend's plight.

Ron smiled and his mind flew to the possibilities, "Gods, imagine what would happen if Neville made the potion…"

"Hermoine let someone else do any part of a project? That thought couldn't be rational even in dreams!" Harry replied, shaking his head. The look of Snape's discontent over their conversation that he caught out of the corner of his eye lead the Gryffindor to duck his head back in the Potions book.

The redhead once again looked behind him to see the drained Draco hunched over the table, arm languorously hanging off the side. He was still confused as to how he couldn't have noticed this happening earlier; but he was sure of one thing. Draco didn't hear the partner assigning or else he would have heard a whine, snicker, or even a sigh…some type of negative feedback from the Slytherin. He wasn't the best at potions; short attention spans didn't function well in most subjects. Also the bit about being partnered with your enemy; he would have something to say about that.

Snape's retreating form lead Ron to rise and head over to Draco's table; after his initial shock they still had to assign a time to meet and get this done. Kneeling down beside the listless form, the Gryffindor quietly called Draco's name and started pinching the cold, fallen arm next to him.

The Slytherins to Draco's right and across the aisle to the left quickly glanced down at Ron but soon went back to their own thoughts. The whole year waited in the common room for Blaise and without a plea, he spilled everything to the Slytherins. After a decisive agreement as to who would fill Draco's seeker position, they had nearly forgotten about the gossip behind the blonde's exhaustion, nor did they seem to care as much either.

The blonde's eyebrow furrowing immediately signaled that he was somewhat awake. Slightly tensing and stretching the muscles in his back and shoulders, Draco relaxed and opened his eyes. The sideways slate gray eyes still pierced Ron's blues and a look of perplexity was directed to him. The protective barrier, even right after being awaken that he possessed, made Ron smile sadly. Ron tilted his head and rested it on the table so his line of sight was direct with the Slytherin's.

"In case you didn't hear, Snape's made us partners for the project on wit-sharpening potions," Ron quietly informed the blonde, who was oblivious of the reason for his presence. Draco closed his eyes and nodded in recognition.

Without making much effort, Draco looked around as much as he could, wondering why the redhead was still staring at him. "So…when is it due?" he drew out, slowly lifting his head as he realized more conversation was needed to suit the Gryffindor.

Ron repeated the action, but stayed down, "End of the week, but do you want to meet sometime tonight?"

Draco nodded and replied with a yawn, "Come down to the dungeons at 9. I'll be waiting outside."

"Sure," Ron agreed, nodding his head. Looking around to catch Snape busy at his desk, he slowly got up and slid back into his own seat.

He figured he shouldn't disagree with Draco at this point. He hasn't bothered to make his life hell recently so taking the extra walk to the dungeons would be some form of repayment. Doing his best, refusing to glance behind him in fear of seeming brainless or meddling when he caught his eye, Ron acquiesced to his wants and placed his attention on the Slytherin again.

His head went back to its previous position on the table, stationary. His arm, however, moved to the table and he was slightly wiggling a pale finger in front of assumed open eyes. Ron didn't bother critiquing the action; he figured he'd done enough of that recently.

Jolting awake at Snape's dismissal, Draco locked eyes with Ron, who was accidentally watching him again, and gave a small nod before leaving the redhead and all of the Slytherin socialites.


	3. Admittance…or some form of the like

Sorry for the delay...but here is 2 new chapters as repayment! I wrote both of these at the same time, it was one huge thing but I wanted to cut it down and keep it in the same range, length wise, as the rest so I disrupted the convo, but I didn't think you would mind.

If you want more, please review!

Cassie x

* * *

Chapter 3: Admittance…or some form of the like 

Fifteen minutes late. Not a great way to start off a project with one's archrival. Breaking out nearly in a sweat, once Ron reached the dungeons, a brisk chill ran down his spine. He wasn't sure if it was because of the temperature or the blank stare of a very weary Draco hanging around the portrait, who didn't stir until the Gryffindor apologized for his belated arrival.

A response wasn't given but a quick shrug and position change of his feet that had been given a break when he slumped against the wall. Ron slightly tilted his head and took in the sight; the Slytherin had his arms folded and was in casual wear for once. Jeans and a t-shirt that was slightly ripped towards the stomach, the small tear showing an even paler tone underneath than the white shirt.

Concentrating his eyes on the barely visible contrast, Ron also felt eyes upon him, but Draco still didn't bother saying anything. Clearing his throat and looking up to the eyes, which bore into his, Ron decided to once again initiate conversation, "So where do you want to…"

"My room," Draco finished the question. "I've got all the books we'll need…" he trailed off, slowly turning around to enter the common room.

Before Ron could agree or protest, the blonde disappeared into the portrait. Following along, he noticed that the Slytherin common room didn't look any different from when he was there, prying the same boy for information in their second year. He was almost going to comment on the unchanged gothic and cold room, but the interrogation that was sure to follow would not be worth it. Or maybe he would passively shrug and remain silent, as he had been.

He passed a couch filled with squeezed in sixth year Slytherins who were huddled up against one another. One poked its head up from the meeting and caught Ron's eye but quickly scowled and ducked back down again. Even the stairs leading to the rooms were hollow from the stone, bared of carpets or any warmth.

Ron caught up with the blonde while ascending the stairs, following close behind him. Draco's arms swayed sloppy and listlessly, head bent down. When he reached the top, he attempted to turn around to see the progress of Ron when the said boy didn't see the action and bumped into him as he stepped up onto the top himself.

Draco took a step back and turned around without a word. Ron shrugged to no one in particular and continued to follow, uttering a small, "Sorry".

The isolated room was unlike any one he's seen. The only thing Ron could compare it to would be the room of requirement, filled with anything his heart desired. Quidditch memorabilia, mini statues, and very expensive looking furniture. Designer everything, he supposed, and in the Slytherin green and silver.

Impressed, Ron took a seat nearby a wall to take the beauty in as its occupier went to a closet. Peeking in the direction, it was filled with fancy robes and brand new clothes, both very small and nice looking. Draco sighed as he pushed them away carelessly and made an opening to grab something.

With a sound of satisfaction, the blonde arose with two bottles, "Finally," he sighed, closing the door with his foot. Ron squinted to see the label but he did not recognize it.

Draco lifted them up and near swaggered over to the Gryffindor, his mood uplifted and now spirited. "For you, Weasel," he offered with a grin.

Ron tilted his head in confusion and looked strangely at the foreign bottle before taking it wearily. "Vodka," Draco answered the unspoken question in Ron's mind. "I guess muggles are good for something, yeah?" he smirked and opened his bottle.

Noticing Ron was silent for a change, he took a big sip before continuing. "So…what potion do we have?" Draco started up again, cheerily and still smirking.

Well, not that it was really a smirk, Ron thought, but more like a genuine smile; something Ron didn't think he ever saw Draco express. Still in shock over the Slytherin's sharp switch of disposition, he responded, "Wit-sharpening," as he sniffed the liquid. The petrol his dad used for the flying car smelled better.

Wrinkling his nose, Draco laughed at the redhead. "It's perfect for you, Weasel. You'll be tested since there is no way my wit needs any improving," he responded as he slung the bottle back for a few gulps. A sigh of relief escaped his liquor-lacquered lips and he set the bottle on the table next to Ron.

"So this is…muggle alcohol?" Ron questioned, still afraid to take a sip.

Draco smiled and put his hands upon his hips, "Why yes it is Ronald. It's quite powerful as well, but delicious once you get its acquired taste. My, my, you're quick on the uptake tonight," he teased before heading over to his bookcases. "Enjoy some and make yourself comfortable," he said, eyes scanning his collection.

Making another face, Ron put his lips to the rim and allowed the clear liquor to infiltrate his mouth. Swishing a small amount inside, he quickly felt compelled to swallow and it burned on the way down his throat. Ron closed his eyes and tried to scrape the taste off his tongue with his teeth, "Gods Malfoy, trying to poison me?" he accused the blonde.

Draco looked over his shoulder to see the redhead's obvious discontent and suppressed laughter, "Of course not Weasley…too much explanation would be necessary. Can you not stomach it?" he asked after he grabbed the desired potion book.

"How can _you_ stomach it?" Ron question as Draco was transfiguring a cup of water for him.

"I've gotten used to it overtime," he shrugged in response, dropping the book on the carpet and grabbing the bottle. Ron followed Draco's lead to sit on the immensely comfortable rug below. Draco sat on his knees; head tiled back as he ingested more of the icky petrol water. "Plus, it helps me think," the blonde added, nodding and smiling, before setting the bottle aside.

He took a second to ponder the situation and was surprised how things were going. Draco was talkative, offering him untainted alcohol, and hell, even moving…a huge step up from earlier today. "Well, you're not getting drunk until this project is finished," Ron threatened the now pouting Slytherin.

"Lighten up, Weasley. We have to do a report and that's it, right?" he asked, flipping through his textbook.

It was one Ron had not recognized, fully black and with no writing on its spine or covers. He eyes him suspiciously and nodded. "Uses, history, and a sample…" he trailed off before giving into his curiosity. "That's not a dark arts book is it?" he demanded more than asked.

Draco looked up and smirked, eyes slightly hazy at this point. "Silly, paranoid, Weasel. It's just a potions text," he assured the Gryffindor, flipping to its first page entitled, 'Advanced Potions'. "Does not say 'for the dark arts'…seriously, where do you get such ideas?" he dismissed the redhead and took another swig, seemingly calmer with each bit that disappeared from the bottle.

"Oh, I can think of more than a few reasons…" Ron pushed.

"Yeah?" Draco snapped. His lighthearted, languid mood slipping away as quick as it moved in. "Just like all the other Slytherin, I'm this slimy, Death Eater just waiting to kiss Voldie's ass, right?"

"Well you_ are_ a Malfoy…" Ron protested.

"That should excuse me from your ludicrous reasoning! Just because I'm a pureblooded Slytherin, doesn't mean I will become evil, Weasel," he spat back.

Ron sat up, leaning into the furious blonde, reciprocating the anger, "Being pureblood has nothing…"

"I know Weasley! That's the point! We're pureblood, we shouldn't have to listen to some half-blooded warmonger because we're better than him…" Draco leaned into Ron back, pulsing with frustration. Ron could feel the heat radiating from the Slytherin and he was sure he could feel his too.

"But your father…" Ron reminded.

"…Is a flaming ball of shit, I know," the blonde leaned back onto his heels, groaning. "I don't have to follow his every whim and command…I'm not his fucking lap dog!" from this point, the yelling ceded, opting for a calmer approach. "You see your siblings, like Fred and George…do you think they fulfill your parents ideals for an heir?"

"_My_ parents don't care whether we are well mannered and proper, Ferret…all they want is our happiness," Ron retorted sternly. "Now if you're insinuating anything about my parents…" his hands fisted in preparation for what always happened when that is the case.

"No. Listen to me Weasel," Draco reasoned, leaning back in to look Ron in the eye. "We're not that different, you and I…my father doesn't care as much about reputation and that shit anymore. Voldemort has already humiliated him by having to be a Death Eater and even just complying with him," he said sternly, eyes not faltering the blue ones piercing his. "If your stupid saviour can get everyone in the clear, my father will just be happy being alive. As long as I make an heir with a pureblood, and not fully dry up our savings before he dies, he doesn't care what I do."

Ron blinked a few times, breaking the bond between their gazes, but not moving. Trying to clear the confusion he inquired, "So why such a bastard…and why are you always comatose and looking like you're half way to death?" the former with persistence but the latter with a twinge of concern.

Draco shrugged but felt compelled to answer to the darting eyes. His arm reached out to grab the bottle once again but felt Ron stopping him. Placing it back down, his eyes did not leave Ron's. "It's actually very enjoyable, seeing you in such a distressed state from a few words off my tongue," he replied arrogantly. "The way you get so offended and protective over your friends and family…it's funny."

Ron scowled but wanted to move on before getting any angrier with the Slytherin. "And you passed out all the time…I doubt you lose sleep over anything I say in return…"

"Don't flatter yourself. I've had problems with insomnia ever since I came here first year. The actual blame is the alcohol," he looked over to the bottle, "My sweet, sweet release into sleep."

"But not at appropriate times. You _must_ know that's not healthy," Ron scolded.

Draco just stared blankly into the concerned blue eyes. "Yes, but it's easier than dealing with the rest of the world," he exclaimed with mock dramatics, leaning back and placing a hand on his forehead. He soon tilted back into his previous position, right in front of Ron. "I hate Slytherins. So complacent and compliant with this stupid Death Eater's club…cult…however you word that gang of imbeciles. I don't have to hear about their marks, and their pressure for me to get mine, if I'm sleeping or they're not attached to my leg, like some horny dog, all the time."

He dropped his head down when he caught up to what he was saying. He was spilling everything to an enemy, not something on his list of things to do when drunk, but he decided to continue because he was already this far in. "I mean I love the house and everything it _used_ to stand for. Slytherin had changed from powerful to deadly and I'd rather not be near the bastards I call friends on a day-to-day basis," the rant elicited a huge sigh from the drained blonde.

His voice wasn't laced with venom or sarcasm or anything, just pure exhaustion.


	4. A New Sedative…or some form of the like

Chapter 4: A New Sedative…or some form of the like

Ron bit his lip and looked to Draco's miracle worker. Picking it up, he held it in the gap between the two. "This isn't the answer though, and you know it…"

Draco laughed, "Well as I told Blaise, if you can think of anything else that isn't illegal, I'm open to ideas."

"But alcohol _is_ illegal for minors," Ron reminded the blonde who was grabbing for the bottle.

Scowling that the bottle was now thrown into a nearby bin, Draco reassured the redhead, "If the ministry found it, they wouldn't have a clue as to what it was," with a smirk.

"Even so," Ron sighed, trying to think of an alternative. "Why don't you exercise more? I know Quidditch wears me out and helps me sleep like a baby," he suggested with a smile.

"I already quit. Any more time forced with those prats in my state, I just might kill one. The only exercise I would keep to, and enjoy, is sex," Draco replied with a smirk.

Ron unnecessarily gulped but smiled back, "Well, why don't you find yourself a girl? They're probably fighting over who gets to sit near you all the time," Ron teased, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you've noticed this then, Weasley?" Draco hinted, with a smug smile.

"I'm serious Malfoy! Who wouldn't want to get under the covers with you? Just bother with your appearance for a day, honestly," Ron replied with sincerity.

Looking into his eyes, Draco asked innocently, "Does that include you as well?"

"Sorry?" Ron quickly reacted. "Oh, sure Malfoy. With your skinny frame, shaggy blonde hair and sparkling silver eyes, it's makes even _me_ want to spread my legs for you," he over-saturatedly responded. He was surprised at the fluidity of his own words. Normally, if he and Dean or Harry joked about sexuality, he'd always have some level of discomfort.

That broke out a smile in Draco, "_You'd_ spread your legs, bottom boy? What would I do then?"

"What? Are you saying you'd be a bottom? You're Mr. 'I'm so filthy rich and powerful, no one can out wit me' yet you're willing to be fucked?" Ron replied sarcastically, but with a twinge or curiosity.

The blonde shrugged, "I've done it before," and that causes Ron's eyes to widen.

Laughing it off, he rolled his eyes, "Yeah right."

Draco smiled, which confused Ron even further. "No, calm down. I haven't," he clarified.

Ron smiled back, "Oh okay."

"What about you Weasley? Your brothers ever teach you a thing or two out of boredom?" Draco insinuated.

Ron rolled his eyes again, "You just _have_ to push me after we were being civil."

"It's my nature…habitual," Draco responded with a smirk and a shrug.

"You have a lot of bad habits, Malfoy. You _do_ realize you'll have to stop drinking," he badgered the Slytherin.

This time Draco rolled his eyes, folding his arms and sitting back on his heels. "Yes Narcissa. I can't just kick it cold though."

"You can if you replace it with something else," Ron replied.

"Have we just gone full circle? No drugs or other illegal things. Those are worse," Draco attested with a scowl. "No exercise except sex…"

Ron stared at him, "Well? Find some bird to shag and you're cured!".

"But that takes effort," he whined.

"Has to be better than this!" Ron reasoned.

"What do you mean? Vodka tastes good," Draco pouted, glancing at the trashed bottle.

Ron sighed, closed his eyes briefly, and then moved Draco's chin so his line of sight was within his. "No, I mean better than this…" and leaned into kiss the unsuspecting lips. The look of panic in the gray eyes let Ron pull away quickly.

"Huh?" Draco stumbled upon words to say, confused. "Wha?"

"Sorry," Ron apologized, wiping his hand across his lips. "But you have to kick this because I am sick of people bitching and worrying about you," he replied.

"I know but the…kiss?" Draco questioned.

Ron laughed, "Just showing how it would be worth the effort finding a girl, rather than snog me."

The blonde had to blink a few times to get over the fact that Ron Weasley just kissed him. "Well…suppose it wouldn't be worth it if I just have you in front of me?" he insinuated, slipping into his defense mechanism; camp mode.

Ron snorted, "You really are lazy, aren't you?"

"What if it was what I'd rather have?" Draco asked, leaning in once again.

Ron didn't move but looked around, laughing nervously. "Kiss me again then," Ron challenged, figuring he would win this silent competition, like many they have with pranks and revenge.

Draco shrugged and closed the gap between the two with his lips and hands on either side of the redhead, leaning on him. His mouth forcefully added pressure after the initial soft kiss. Without knowing, Ron slid his tongue along the blonde's lips, requesting access that he immediately gained into his mouth. After a long battle with tongues and teeth clashing, Draco pulled away to get air.

Ron shut his eyes and tilted his head to the side, unsure of what possessed him. Draco fixed his eyes on him, "Was that a mistake?" he asked the Gryffindor, who was still not looking at him.

Opening his eyes, he looked into the gray, almost black now, eyes for the appropriate response. Seeing the almost pleading emotion behind the lust in Draco's eyes, it told Ron that he could tell the truth. Shaking his head vehemently, the smile from Draco that followed let Ron know it was the truth to him as well.

Grabbing the Slytherin's neck and pulling him to his body, their lips met again with even more passion than the previous one. Draco was the first to force his tongue in this time, gaining control over Ron's moaning mouth. As the kiss deepened, the two needed to be closer. Draco inched his way on top of Ron until he was fully sitting in his lap, massaging the redhead's back with his hands.

Ron's hands slid under the worn out shirt and explored the smooth, white chest. Brushing a hand against a hard nipple elicited a moan only to be lost in Ron's mouth. The Gryffindor broke away from the lust filled kiss to pull up Draco's shirt, ripping it slightly from the force. Draco returned the favour by ripping the buttons off Ron's school shirt and throwing it off him.

Before Ron's hands could undo the blonde's jeans, he was on his back and Draco was on top of him, making marks down his neck, biting and sucking, as Ron scraped his nails down Draco's back. Lifting his hips from the thrusting he was maneuvering on the redhead, Draco's hand slid down the chest he was now marking up to unbutton Ron's trousers.

Briefly looking up for permission, Ron's immediate mouth on his assured it was okay. Straddling Ron to take off his own jeans proved difficult as when his erection was freed, instantly Ron's hands were all over him, stroking and not allowing anything else to come down. The urgency in Ron by his dripping hardness, his ministrations under Draco, and the look in his eyes proved that he didn't want to take things slow. Sliding his legs out from under Draco, he trapped the blonde between his legs, not allowing his jeans to come off or anything.

Draco's persistent hardness now slick from Ron's hands was being led to his lover's entrance as the Gryffindor's legs lifted him up. Hesitant, Draco sat once again on his knees and held Ron's hips up. "Are you sure?" the blonde's raspy voice let out through moans.

Ron took a breath and nodded. Entering with as much control that he could muster, Draco heard the hiss of pain come from Ron. Looking up to focus on the boy, Ron opened his eyes, his lip bit, but insisted he push in more. Sheathing his length inside the redhead awoke both of them as the sensations overwhelmed them.

After setting a steady rhythm, Draco concentrated on Ron's glare as it went from pain to pleasure when he hit the sensitive spot inside. The intense lock of their eyes was getting to Draco, who was already near his breaking point from the tightness surrounding him. Without faltering, his hand moved to Ron's weeping erection and stroked it furiously.

A shudder filled Ron before he came, eyes never leaving Draco's. The intense pressure immediately broke Draco who climaxed with a deep thrust inside the redhead. More than sated, Draco nearly fell onto Ron, whose legs were still wrapped around the other's waist. The Slytherin shifted to pull out of Ron but the hand on his back pushed down, as he whispered, "Not yet," to the blonde.

When Ron could barely stand to breathe anymore, he tapped on the back his hands were running along and the blonde immediately lifted up, apologizing. Ron sighed at the loss of Draco inside him, but when he lay back down beside Ron, supporting himself on an elbow, Ron curled into the boy, his head resting in the crook of the Slytherin's arm.

"We didn't get any of that project done," Draco reminded the sated boy next to him. "Don't tell me it's due tomorrow."

Ron smiled at the realization, "No it's not, but what should we do about that?"

"Take my _non-dark arts_ potions text and write the report, I'll do the potion and we'll confer on things, same time, same place, tomorrow," Draco finalized.

"Can I throw away your alcohol stash then?" Ron asked hopeful.

Draco's groan withdrew the Gryffindor from attesting any further. His fingers traced down the blonde's back, lightly running them along the marks he made. Wincing, he looked at Draco, "Sorry for the scratches."

"At least they can't see them." Draco glanced Ron down and smiled softly at the marks he'd left on his neck and chest, which was steadying finally. "You might want to conceal the ones I put on your neck," he added.

Ron smiled and rested his wandering hand on Draco's hip, "Why? Let them wonder what went on. It might be a good way for your stupid Slytherin leeches to leave you alone," Ron suggested.

"Well lets not tell the world just yet," Draco winked, tenderly running his free hand through the orange locks.

Ron swallowed hard before asking, "Do you want this to continue?" unsure about the answer.

"You're not illegal and an even better tasting vice, so why not?" Draco assured the pleased Gryffindor.

He had found his new sedative.


End file.
